As Long as It's you
by l Neros l
Summary: Jon would say it's love. Others would call it obsession. Whatever it was, it's landed him inside the League of Assassins after Damian's fallout with Bruce forced the youngest Robin to return to his ancestral home. His mom didn't like that, so she's come to visit the world's largest assassination syndicate to get her baby boy back. What is ensues is the WORST FAMILY REUNION EVER.


_In front of the emerald and gold throne, three steps down from the dais Damian Wayne stood with dignity and the knowing look of his __**power**__ over the being that knelt before him._

"Break off my arms, I'll take hold of you with my heart as with a hand. Stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat. And if you consume my brain with fire, I'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood."

Jon knelt before him, his scuffed left knee brushing the marbled stone as he kissed Damian's hand, first the knuckles (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) and then turning it around to brush his lips on the pulse produced by his wrist.

He stayed there for a second, just enjoying the feeling of the skin jumping slightly to the sound underneath.

Thump-Thump

Thump-Thump

He breathed the melody in, and kissed the pulse, again and again, sprinkling it with reverent kisses. The very same pulse which held him grounded to this world and his own sense of self, his anchor in more ways than one. Because even the sound of the roaring Himalayan winds could not drown the steady heartbeat that centered him to the present moment, nor could the rapid flow of the Sutlej river surpass the blood flow of the veins that calmed his mind.

He planted one last peck before bringing the hand he worshipped back to the center of his forehead.

"Dami, I swear I'll prove myself on tomorrow's mission, I won't let you down!"

"Of that, I have no doubt, beloved," Damian softly, the same way his mother used to on Infinity island, but this time with all the appropriate sentiment he knew were lacking in her slithering words.

He was once again slightly taken aback by Jon's deferential display, for as always it was not necessary for him to do such things as his _only_ equal nor was it something that Damian demanded of his super-powered companion, but somehow this soon became the natural order of things, and he admitted it wasn't to his dislike.

Damian stared at the door down the long ornate hall. "But today, you may yet to prove something," He said taking back his hand as he walked up to his rightful seat as the head of the League of Assassins.

Jon stood, confused by the cryptic phrasing.

"For we have a visitor."

The room suddenly shook as the two massive copper doors at the end of the hall rumbled open.

"Wha-?"

"Jon! Sweetie, I'm here to talk!"

"We found her climbing at the steps of our territory with frostbite on her feet, the guards brought her to the prisoner encampment a few minutes ago and immediately reported it to me as they are trained to do," Damian said.

"Our healer did what she could before any more extensive damage to the nerves endings were done" He continued "Though more could've been done had your mother not struggled peevishly under her care" Damian glared at the shivering figure while accommodating himself in his throne. He crossed his legs, body shifting to the side so his elbow rested on the ornate armrest of the throne. His arm was doing its part to support the chin as he stared curiously to the display that would unfold.

It was Lois Lane, her sickly and pale composure a hit in the gut to Jon. (God, she looked so thin)

"Mom…"

Athletes all over the world prepared for months before embarking on the grueling climb that was the Himalayan mountain range; foundation, aerobic, stamina, and peaking…yet here was his mother with some Big bear vacation jacket and equipment, a single frozen and unbranded water bottle hanging loosely from her hip.

Was she that desperate she would come all this way on her own? his dad… yeah, his dad probably couldn't stop her (That's Mom for you!) but he must've been keeping an eye on her from the skies, there's no way she could've made it alive otherwise. His face scrunched just thinking about what an excruciating ordeal it must have been for her, she's just human after all.

Why? Why did she have to be here? His stomach felt like it was going to fall off its container at the thought of it. Okay, maybe he shouldn't have had Manakish for breakfast. In the end, he'd already said everything he could say to his mom the day before he left with Dami to their little paradise in snowy hell.

Lois limped through the immense doors as they opened, she tripped but got herself back up, tripped again, this time to her knees. She began to crawl her way to Jon's feet at the foot of the dais where he stood. Jon sparred her the humiliating journey and went to her instead, helping his mother up only to crumble to her knee's again, the pain from the frostbite marked clearly on her face.

The scene made Damian's face contort in disgust.

_'To allow the weak to live is a disservice to them and nature itself_.'

Talia's voice echoed in the darkest chamber of his mind. Blood rushed to his feet and arms, it rumbled in his skull, answering the primal call of a fight or flight response.

Jon glanced at him from the side of his peripheral vision, probably sensing the rush of blood. (control it)

He didn't want to but he could very clearly imagine it, going right up to Lois in her weakest state and breaking her neck, quick, simple and painless. Every fiber of his instinct called to action, the instinct his grandfather and _she_ so meticulously braided into his subconsciousness.

(Do it, it would be mercy, one less parasite dragging mother earth into a cesspool of filth.)

_A hero can be anyone _\- _Batman_

_His mind paused. (controlling it)_

_"__-tt-"_

Damian was actually, very surprisingly, not expecting his mother-in-law to pay them a visit today, making him reconsider the mistake of not planting a tracker on her long ago.

A potentially idiotic lapse in judgment knowing the deep seethed hate she bore him to the point where he half expected her to be plotting his demise on a daily basis, that thing- (breath) _Mother in law_ \- he strained mentally - crawling at the leg of his beloved also happened to be the single biggest threat to their partnership.

But Jon wouldn't have liked him tracking his parents and so he made a compromise to keep out of their lives because losing his best friend, beloved and most trusted ally for the sake of this lowly pleb- _Mother in law,_ was not a risk worth taking in any measured scenario. (Also, the fact that if Jon had asked it was almost impossible to lie to him, but that's beside the point.)

"Jon please!" she cried at boy's feet "Please come back home, baby!"

"Mom…"

"I made your favorite dessert, apple pecan pie! Just like you like it, sweetie. Oh! and Kathy the girl next door, you know the pretty blonde one? Well, she's been asking about you a lot! she calls me every week asking how you've been and baby I think she likes you!"

Damian scowled, he would need to revisit this _Kathy _woman's files.

"What I'm saying is there's still a place for you at home baby, just please come back and snap out of this…this THING! that you have with that EVI-

"Watch your malignant tongue _mother-in-law_, I may have you a deep respect as Jon's bearer, but you are in _our_ home so we expect dignity of language as you expect it in yours!" Damian hissed almost getting off his throne.

Lois glared at him with the deep seethed hatred of an overlord who was stripped of everything by his enemy, if looks could kill…

"Don't you FUCKING dare call me that, don't you dare!"

Oh, the _nerve_ of this indecorous, lowly- In one swift movement Damian stood up and took his trusted katana from its hilt, his right arm already stretched backward like a baseball pitcher ready to strike someone out, _permanently_.

"Damian stop!" Jon yelled, flying between him and his trembling target.

The al Ghul's body shook slightly as he brought the abrupt swing to a full stop.

"-tt-" he tutted while sheathing his katana, and like a child who was reprimanded for bad behavior he crossed his arms and dipped low into his emerald encrusted throne.

"Mom, don't provoke him," Jon sighed "And we've already discussed this, it's like the only thing you ever talk about when I come over to visit." Hopefully, this wouldn't end with his boyfriend killing his mom.

"Remember how you used to tell me that dad and I were- are your everything?" he asked scratching his nose "Well, Damian is that to me, sorry do I sound dumb? I just don't know how many ways I can say this to you so you'll understand, not like in a condescending way, I would never, Damian does that a lot, but in a cute way but um…eh.."

Everyone stared at him. Damian face-palmed and faintly shook his head in stoic embarrassment.

Ugh, someone please kill him. (Sorry D!)

"Look, I'm just following my heart just like you and pops taught me, and mom it's all him, my world feels like it's falling apart when I'm not with him"

"Cheeseball," Damian coughed.

"Well, it's true!" And to some degree, it was actually quite literal. Jon had been trained by Damian from a very critical and early Kryptonian stage of development.

When the world's noise was threatening to tear his body and mind apart with the screams…

_'Mommy help me!'_

_'No don't, uncle please,'_

_'I'm so hungry,'_

_'Please just take the money, don't hurt her!'_

They echoed from everywhere, coming from all over the world, voices haunting his every waking moment but then Damian saved him.

It was a hot summer night in Jon's bedroom. He was kneeling at the edge of his bed, exhausted from flying all day long. First to Egypt, then Mexico, then that place with the really good bean soup that lady he saved made for him (Morocco?) and 24 other countries he was too tired to remember. He couldn't help noticed the floor was littered with dirty clothes, toys and unfinished homework including a couple of _absent_ notices from his school, ugh... better hide those before mom finds them.

The clock marked 10:02 PM

_'__Help me!'_

_'__Noo! Please spare him, he's just a boy'_

'Mommy!'

…

"Stop, stop, STOP!" Jon screamed.

He smashed his forehead against the railing that supported his bed, bending the rigid metal until it broke.

His forehead started bleeding. His mom and dad barged into the room.

He passed out.

The clock marked 3:37 AM

Jon opened his eyes as he rested on his angled bed. His window was making clinking noise, the sound of a lock being picked (Click!). Damian. He's the only one who could pick it so fast, he could also hear his steady heartbeat from this distance. He had suggested to keep it open to make it easier for him to come in for their night patrol escapades but his stubborn friend insisted that would be _Idiotic, _that if_ he wanted to get in, he would, the old-fashioned way. _That way_ Jon would know if it was him or not, depending on the speed of the lock-picking process, _confident he was the best in the world_._

The clock marked 3:45 AM

Damian sat on the floor with a shaking and tired Superboy, the alien's bandaged head resting tightly on his lap. He stiffly patted his damp raven hair, clearly not used to showing affection of any kind.

"Your bed…"

"Please, just do it Dami." Jon shivered, a fever threatening to envelop him, clearly seeking passage through his currently weak immune system. His dad had given him some helpful tips on controlling his super hearing, but he said it took time, something Jon felt he didn't have anymore, it was driving him crazy!

"Jon, continuous Lack of oxygen to the brain could cause irreversible brain damage, the consequences are dire, a very real threat with you being only half Kryptonian"

"Please…." He begged, "The way you do it hurts less, I also don't wanna wake up feeling like I got hit by the planet's biggest mallet."

"Jon…I believe to have a more practical idea, a temporary shortcut of sorts whose effects may be immediate, though, it's a little unorthodox and may in the long run cause more damag-

"What! Really!? Jon coughed "Dude, like anything to make it quiet, at this point I would honestly put chicken eggs in my ears if I had too!"

"I don't bring such a remedy, Jon…I also don't have chickens…" He hesitated, contemplating the future implications of his solution.

"Just try to listen to me…"

"What? I am listeni-"

"No dufus, I mean _really_ listen, let my movement and rhythm be the center point of your concentration, and everything else be noise you can _choose_ to let in."

He grabbed the shaking hand and brought it to his chest "Let me be the only noise in your ears, every slight movement, no matter how small, be a tidal wave to your senses"

"Ptff!

"What!? It was a very serious proposal I don't-!" Damian snapped a slight hue to his cheeks.

Jon wiped a tear from his eye "I know, I know!" He tried recreating the grumpiest look he could muster "I DON'T JOKE."

"It just sounded so ha-ha …romantic Dami," he laughed wiping a tear from his eye. He cleared this throat and continued "But seriously can you explain what you mean? A little less poetically would be great aha-ha"

Let's just say, the next day his dad was very proud, a milestone he celebrated by going to Morocco with Damian.

But the thing was that... that _temporary_ solution became his permanent crutch, never quite learning to tune out the _noise_ without Damian's steady rhythm to drown it all out.

"Jo-n.." his mother croaked "I love your father and you with all my soul and would do anything for you boys"

"Exactly!" Jon exclaimed

"BUT that's because you're my son and because your father and I maintain a strong and _healthy_ relationship that brings out the best in each of us, it's _completely_ different from what you think you have with _him_, which does the exact opposite, can't you see he only brings out the worst in you sweetie! remember that time, you know, when you almost killed that man with the scar because he scratched _his_ face, if it wasn't for your father coming in on time, you would be a killer! Because of _him_!"

Damian leered, remembering that day clearly (Case file #234, Carl Torrenti). The buffoon had managed to miraculously cut his face with a magical whip he stole from the Metropolis's very own Santorum Chamber of Relics. The bleeding wound obviously looked far worse than it actually was because Jon _snapped_ (The idiot probably thinking he would foolishly die from it.)

"Sweetie, what you have is not based on real love or anything even close to it, it's warped and obsessive and honest to God you deserve better, I mean just look at where we are" She gestured towards the cold and looming walls of the throne room.

"This den of assassins, killers, murderers, rapi—"

"Watch your cretinous tongue woman!" Damian exclaimed, pushing himself off his seat as he punched the armrests of the throne, just _knowing_ the line she was about to cross, an overstep that would merit her death a thousand times over. If there was one thing he wasn't it was _that_, and he would _slowly_ slit the throat of any associate who dared even think…

Lois bit her words, hurriedly grabbing the edge of Jon's jacket in fear and, he just… stared down at her, in silent understanding to Damian's backlash at her words.

"This- this just isn't you" she continued "You belong under the sunny skies at home, eating apple pecan pie and going on normal dates with girls- or boys from your University, while me and your dad embarrass you in front of them with baby stories, not-" she choked tears now dripping profusely from her eyes "No-t… this, you deserve so much better than _this_, than _him._"

"_Him,_ has a name," Damian bit.

Jon glared at his short-tempered lover then sighed, rubbing the pressure point between his eyes. Honestly, could this get any wor-? Darnit Jon! haven't you watched enough movies to know you don't even _think_ those words (May the bad luck gods have mercy on his soul.)

"Mom, you just keep saying the same things any time we talk about this, why can't you just…"

And like an exclamation to his plea the doors to the throne room smashed open, it was his Dad.

Worst. Family. Reunion. EVER.

Over 30 ninja-outfitted guards came running in "Sir apologies he, just- "

"You are all dismissed" Damian sneered "Expect swift punishment for your failure after I'm done here."

"YES, SIR!" A unison chorus shouted, the guards then turned to exit the hall, their faces all cast with the shadow of shame.

"Lois!" Superman exclaimed as saw his wife crying next to his son's feet and Jon swore the room got 50 degrees colder "What are you doing to your mother!?"

"Dad, wait, I haven-" he never got the chance to finish because less than a second later he felt a cold grip around his throat.

Damian hastily stood (god, he hated surprises) and without hesitation he pressed the tiny button pressed to his waist sash. Of course, not even the love he felt towards his beloved would delude him from having the necessary precautions for one such Kryptonian invader. (Operation big and angry father-in-law breaks into their lair, begin.)

Suddenly the whole hall shook, hidden machinery sprouted from the walls like sentient basement doors and in an instant over a hundred green lasers pointed neatly at Superman, a massive ball of green light adorning his forehead ever so ready to impale him a ton's worth of kryptonite photons through his skull.

"Wait, don't Damian!" Jon shouted, managing to release his father's iron grip around his neck with relative ease.

It was during an arm-wrestling challenge at aunt Kara's place that he first found out he was stronger than his dad.

An event meant for laughs and giggles turned into his silent chance to test out the spoils of his special training with Damian. He was kinda obsessed with trying to _train him to be the best, _(the very best, that no one ever was!) something about wanting an equal_._ Would it make a difference? (Damian insisted it would, saying mutated Kryptonian blood could, in theory, bring out more power than it's- blah-blah)

He was curious. Was he at least close to matching his pops?

"Ok, boys play fair and don't worry about my table, she can handle it," Kara winked, holding both their fist in the correct starting placement.

"Go!"

After the rush of adrenaline faded Jon opened his eyes to see his dad's fist resting on the losing side, his face just as stunned. Holy smokes.

"Honey it's alright, I just came to talk to our boy about coming home," She said wiping the tears from her cheeks. She forced herself to stand up and wobbled towards her husband, who looked to be in shock, careful not to put too much pressure on her injured feet. Superman snapped out of it and looked down toward her legs.

"Oh, this is just something that happened while I was climbing up here Dear, I wish I could say someone else did it to me," She glared at Damian, "But alas it was silly ol' me, really should've prepared more, huh."

"Lois!" Clark called as he went to her, carefully lifting up her body up to his arms so her feet wouldn't touch the floor. "I'm so sorry L, you really should've at least let me help you on the way up!" He continued, hurt with every letter that came after, "And just how many times have we discussed this? Jon has made a _choice_ to join the League and YES, it's a regretful one, but L we have to trust he'll snap out of it on his own not like this, not by force."

"But that's exactly that's why we need to try our best! Our son isn't in his right mind to make those kinds of decisions!" Lois insisted.

"In what sane world would our boy be part of a criminal organization who makes it their business to KILL, do you expect me to just wait at home for him to change his mind!? No! can't you see it's just a matter of time before he kills someone in this hell hole!? He's obviously being manipulated or brainwashed or something Clark! This is the time for us to help our son in any way we can, _not_ try to understand his sickness!"

Lois would not- _could not_ accept this union. Anyone but the head of a group of assassins, anyone but _him_. She couldn't recall how many times her boy almost (accidentally) killed or died trying to protect that demon, only to be treated coldly for any unnoticeable mistake. And don't get her started on their past night patrols and training where her little angel would come home either beat up or half-dead.

Now he's living with death itself, even saying he's in _'love'_ with _it_. Oh, he felt something alright but love wasn't it, getting hurt, almost dying, being abused in mind, body, and soul, that _couldn't_ be love, it just couldn't (just teens and their crazy hormones).

She sighed mentally- Honestly, all she and Clark wanted for Jon was a relatively normal life (within the limits of being a hero) and wow was this as far from it as it got. And Lois swore on her life Jon would not ride into a body bag, prison or a damn bloody sunshine with that hellspawn if she had anything to say about it.

"Sheesh Mom, is that what you think this is?" Jon choked out, wounded to the core that his mom thought he wasn't making a conscious decision to love Damian. That what he felt was _sick_.

"And _that is exactly why_ you need to be cautious Lois, the Kryptonian Jon Samuel Kent and his unpredictable association to Damian _al Ghul_ have categorized both of them as level S supervillains, you were reckless coming up here," Said a very distinguishable deep voice as it entered the hall.

"Why did you bring _him_ along Clark!? He's the one who started all this!"

"Father, what a surprise~ (not). Truly was not expecting such convivial family reunion," Damian quipped, sitting up from his throne, arms crossed.

Unlike Jon's parents and close relatives, he did keep clear surveillance on his own family's actions, observing the manor every day up from his covert satellites for irregular activity. After all, Batman presented a very practical threat to his and Jon's partnership. This was In very clear contrast to his beloved's boy scout of a patriarch, who knew to keep a dignified distance before his son's choices. His father, on the other hand, was a much less understanding individual.

No doubt the bat was also scanning Damian's activities daily for any clear evidence of a criminal act committed, probably wanting nothing more than to throw both their behinds in the Arkham asylum to rot.

As if he would let that happen. He would rather slaughter Gotham's entire population than to let Jon even smell that trash bin.

Of course, he let him into his territory on purpose, he felt it prudent knowing his father's tendency to try to de-escalate any situation. It could prove useful in a room with two disagreeing Kryptonians. Damian was also confident Bruce wouldn't find anything that could implicate him or Jon and that his preparations could subdue or even kill anyone in that room if necessary (Except Jon, of course). He hoped it didn't have to get to that point.

Jon hovered to Damian side in front of the throne, his Kryptonian father left behind still a little bit in shock at his silent loss.

With his right, Jon took Damian's left hand and gently kneaded the skin beneath his palm. Damian stared up at him, tempted to pull away but refusing to back down.

"Did you know?" Jon asked as he stared at their fingers mingling in a dance. _He_ _tightened his grip_, making Damian wince for a microsecond, just enough for only Jon to notice (and he noticed everything when it came to him).

"As insurmountable as it sounds, I did not," Damian scoffed. "For respect to you and only you, I refrain from making your family's every action my business, though of course, I knew my father was on his way."

He wasn't lying. Jon sighed "Don't, do anything to them Dami, I know you and…" he lifted his free hand resting his open palm to Damian's chest "Don't."

Damian smirked, lifting his unoccupied hand up to Jon's hair and grabbing a healthy fistful of the boy's dark locks. He violently yanked down forcing Jon to his knee while making the palm to his chest drop to the floor as a fist. He strained Jon's neck up to look at him.

"Or what?" Damian taunted.

"Jon!" Lois screamed, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive. She quickly tried to set herself free from superman's grasp but he didn't budge.

Jon winced then mentally sighted, not minding the display of strength. He had long ago submitted to Damian's displays of power, as a loyal dog does to his (very) childish master. He looked up into his eyes, seeing past all the anger and rage.

"Or I'm gone," and you'll be all alone.

"You—" Damian said, a little taken aback "-tt-"

"They aren't worth my anger Kent, I'll let you handle it but make it quick, I feel your bearer will develop mutated abilities to throw daggers from her eyes any second now."

Jon smiled that same bright smile that enthralled anyone lucky enough to witness it, "Between you and me I think she's just keeping it a secret from all of us."

Jon's neck lowered to Damian's left hand which was still interlocked with his and kissed it slowly, carefully peppering light pecks as he savored the taste of each finger, starting with his thumb (nutmeg), then slowly crossing to the index (cinnamon), then the middle (clove), the ring (caraway) and last but not least his pinky (saffron), finally finishing by caressing his nose to the knuckles, breathing in the essence that was his god.

"Thank you," he murmured into his skin.

A shiver ran down Damian's spine.

Jon stood up only to cup Damian's cheeks between both his hands, making sure to hover his lips over his lover's dark-skinned ones, and pecked ever so teasingly and lightly, barely touching so as to tease.

"Thank you" Jon muttered again, this time into Damian's mouth.

Then Damian abruptly gripped his taller companion's face and forcefully closed the gap between their lips, probably taking Jon's teasing as a challenge. He contrasted the delicate show of affection with a hard and violent kiss, Jon breathed into it. (God, he loved it when D did that.)

"You _better_ be grateful, Kent," Damian declared, pulling at Jon's bottom lip with his teeth, making sure to leave a small bruise.

"You're too kind," Jon chuckled, licking at the tiny specks of blood left behind.

"Oh God," Lois gasped, hands covering half her face in shock at the disturbingly intimate display. Somehow at that moment she knew she had lost her son, lost the battle and that whatever she had come up here to do had lost all hope of success. Superman walked to his wife's side enveloping her in a hug in hopes of drowning out the cries.

"Yo-you demon! Incubus! leech! Ju-just give me back my son… I'll do anything," She sobbed glaring at Damian, "Just give him back to me."

"Jon is not my prisoner you delusional woman, if you have yet to see that then I truly question every part of your mental capacity, _more than usual," _Damian jeered, wishing HE had the power to shoot daggers from his eyes. He felt a slight and unfamiliar tang of pity but not towards her (oh no) but Jon, his most beloved who was at the center stage of his matriarch's deranged throes.

He hated feeling like this, remembering something his mother used to say:

_Beloved, do not display weakness nor hesitate when you strike, for to show pity is to show disrespect._

It was one of the very few things he agreed on with her yet… he could barely push back these human things, especially when Jon seemed like he wanted to cry. He grabbed at his beloved's hand who stood next to him observing his mother and tightened his grasp.

_"__Do not show weakness," _Damian whispered. Don't cry.

Jon looked down at him returning the gesture and smiled, not brightly like his usual but with a glass-like sadness, reflecting such a profound sense of sorrow that Damian questioned if he could truly keep his composure. _Don't cry, _he thought once again, this time not sure who it was meant for.

From superman's humid shoulder Lois pointed her finger at Batman who closely watched by the doors at the back.

"THIS IS YOUR FAULT! IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU, THAT THING UP THERE SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF MY PRECIOUS BOY WOULDN'T BE BORN!" Lois screamed as her pointed finger gave out to pain and hurt. (Where had she gone wrong?)

Batman's face stiffened, unresponsive to her comment in hopes of not escalating the situation. He understood where she was coming from, him being Damian's progenitor and thus, half the reason for his biological existence. But Bruce knew she was pulling at straws, children are not their parents and vice versa and he knew Lois knew that. She was just too blinded by anger right now to think clearly.

He wished there was a logical solution to all of this but everything that could be said between him, Damian and Jon had been said long ago, recognizing that at this point, words were futile. His thoughts confirmed by the display he just witnessed. Bruce looked around, determined to do the thing he came here for, study his surroundings, gripping any bit of advantageous information he could observe and also make sure Superman didn't destroy the whole damn building.

Batman sighed.

Who knew it would end like this, his son- no, The_ League of Assassins_ in control of one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy (Stronger than his father). How in the world did he let this happen? How could he not have seen it coming? It was a complete and utter disaster waiting to happen, and he was determined to be ready. When he gathered all the information he could, he gestured to Superman that it was time to go.

Superman nodded and pulled his distressed wife into a princess hold, making his way towards the exit. Batman reached to his belt and threw his super-powered friend a special blanket to cover her from the winds.

Before going on his way superman stopped and looked back at the throne where Jon stood next to the al Ghul "Son, I trust I've taught you well enough to distinguish right from wrong and I know you haven't killed anyone, I can see it in your eyes but," He looked at Damian, "Evil is contagious and so insidious you barely know it's there, so please consider not only your mental health but your mother's and come home soon, our doors are always opened to _family,_" and with that, he leaped into the air and 'exited the doors.

"Jon, you know where to find me, and Damian...your mother would be proud," Batman finally said as he retreated, the massive doors closing behind him.

Damian frowned. He just _had_ to jam that last part in there, didn't he? Shameless hypocrite, what right has he to talk after he left him behind to his grandfather's devices.

A single tear ran down's Jon's face, then another, and three more. He tried his best to stop them, to force them back in with his hands.

"I'm sorry Dami, I know you hate it when I cry, I just…"

Damian brought Jon's head down to his shoulders, softly stroking his cascading hair.

"Shh Jonathan, you did well not to show weakness in front of them and... I don't hate it when you cry, I hate it when you hurt."

"Why can't everyone just get along, like," Jon sniffled, "You're like the kindest, most authentic, most hard-working person I've met, and It just hurts so much D how the people I love the most can't see any of that or _don't_ want to see it, I don't know."

Damian chuckled, an aching smile blooming on his lips as he kept petting his other half's hair, "Beloved, In this life, only you would describe me with those words."

Jon wrapped his arms around the Arabian descendant's waist and tightened, burying deep into his shoulder "But you are…"

"The way you fund half the worlds' stray animal shelters, and how you fly every week to refugee camps in the middle east to teach the kids martial arts and always bring them lots of food and how…" Jon rambled on, tears on the march.

"You're the one who's too kind my sun," Damian said, leaning his head to the side to plant a kiss on Jon's temple before continuing, "People won't see what they don't want to see, it is in human nature to be blind to anything but their own thoughts, _do not_ let them close your eyes to their pleas, _do not yield_ to their ignorant sentimentalities lest you want to be taken advantage of and I assure you that trying to please all but yourself is the clearest path to misery."

"As long as it's you," Jon replied hugging tighter "As long as I'm miserable with you, I'm happy."

"Ugh, keep all that cheese to yourself, Kent," Damian smirked.

"Heh."


End file.
